Catch Me As I Fall
by InfinityAndOne
Summary: [One-Shot] That's it. It's over. Everything he once knew, gone with a shake of a hand. He has Huntington's and it's started. He may as well be dead, so why pass up the chance of living while he still can?


Catch Me As I Fall

This. This was what he needed to do. He reminded himself of the many times he had reprimanded Cal for doing this. For getting so drunk he'd come home at a ridiculous time in the early morning, only to complain about the hangover, eat Ethan's toast, grab a lift because "I left my car at the pub" and do it again the following evening. At least he knew why Cal liked it so much now. Ethan had never been much of a drinker. Maybe the odd drink here or there, a few more just after he had discovered he had this God-awful genetic mutation inside of him… but he never quite found the joy in drinking so much you could endanger your health.

Until now.

 _"We can confirm progression in the disease."_

He went to his specialist to get good news. To give him something to smile about, especially after he'd been feeling so awful lately. But between the random hand shaking and jerks to the forgetting his keys or locking the front door… he knew what was coming the moment he called the specialist.

Hope was a dangerous thing, but Ethan had fallen into the trap. Maybe he'd just been stressed recently? Maybe he was thinking too hard about it and causing the symptoms himself?

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

It wasn't a maybe anymore. He was going to die. The disease had started and it would slowly turn him into everything he didn't want to be. He couldn't carry on as a doctor as it progressed, he would endanger someone's life. His dream. What he worked towards his entire life… gone with a simple symptom.

And now that he had the confirmation, there wasn't a point to anything. This is where his life ends.

So he would live while he still could. Be reckless. What would it matter anyway? He could jump off a building just to feel the rush of adrenaline and it wouldn't matter if he survived or not. He was going to die soon. 10 years, maybe. 20 years was hopeful. But nothing past that. No longer living to the age of 60 or 70, or even 100. He would never feel that. Ever.

* * *

The burning feeling at the back of his neck gave him pain, but he welcomed it. It wasn't like he wasn't going to have to get used to pain when he would get inevitably worse as time progressed.

He threw his head back, gulping the liquid almost dangerously. But that was another thing he was going to have to get used to. After all, when he would be worrying about choking on everything he consumed, spluttering on alcohol seemed minor. At least he still had the capacity to swallow without worry now.

The urge to stop completely and walk out of the pub before he was too drunk to drive washed over him.

But what fun would that be?

A hand suddenly tapped him on the shoulder, making him jump – probably looking like an absolute idiot. He turned, clenching his teeth as he saw the concerned face of his brother.

 _'Just wait until you tell him_ ', said a little voice in the back of his head. ' _He'll be gone in an instant.'_

"I'm off now, Ethan."

Ethan recognised the caution in Cal's voice. It was probably obvious Ethan didn't want to be disturbed, and no-one but Cal could read Ethan better.

Ethan stared for a moment, before coming out with a harsh: "bye, then."

He could see the cogs turning in Cal's mind as he hesitated. His lower lip trembled slightly as he prepared what to say. Eventually, Cal spoke again. "You coming?"

"What do you think?" he said furiously. Why couldn't Cal just leave already?

Ethan's words didn't have the desired effect. Cal sat down next to him.

"Are you… okay?"

"Yes. Fine."

"You do realise that you basically just told me you weren't." Cal smiled, his eyes lighting up as he teased his brother.

Ethan almost envied him. He wished he could smile.

"For goodness sake, Caleb. Just go, will you?"

Ethan turned back to his drink, but before he could take another sip (or probably a large gulp), his hand shook. He stared at it as the shaking subsided and his shoulders slumped. He was going to have to get used to that.

"Ethan?" Cal said, sounded scared. "What was that?"

When Ethan turned back to his brother, he realised his eyes had misted over. Cal must have seen Ethan's reaction… and now he would become worried. "It was nothing, Caleb."

Cal grasped Ethan's hand, too tight for Ethan to pull it from Cal's own. "What aren't you telling me, Ethan?"

"Nothing," Ethan said, guarding himself from the inevitable moment Cal ran off.

Cal looked hurt. "You forget I know you, Ethan. And I know that look. And I know… I know what the shake can mean."

"Quit worrying, Cal. It's none of your business."

He released Ethan's hand and sat back. "You're my brother, Ethan! Of course it's my business!" He lowered his voice. "Maybe you should… y'know… see your specialist?"

Ethan snorted. "I'm one step ahead of you, dear brother."

Cal's eyes widened and it took a moment for him to start speaking again. "And?" His voice sounded ten times higher than usual.

"And, what? It's none of your business. Patient confidentiality-"

"Ethan!" Cal interjected. "Stop saying that! Has… has it started or not?"

"Take a wild guess," Ethan replied evasively, taking a large gulp of his glass – not even feeling the slightest bit of relief that his hand didn't shake this time.

Realisation passed across Cal's face and he almost fell off his seat. "Shit," he breathed.

Ethan stood and Cal stood too, mimicking Ethan's actions. "For something so… so awful, you have a wonderful way of coming up with the best understatements."

Cal stepped forward, his hand outstretched. "Ethan… I'm sorry."

Ethan swallowed past the uncomfortable lump that made home in his throat and didn't even show acknowledgement of Cal's hand, despite desperately wanting comfort from his brother. "Why? It's not your fault I have this gene in me. It's not your fault you can't cure me or replace my genes."

Cal dropped his hand. "Yeah… but…" He stopped. It was like he'd simply run out of words.

Ethan ground his teeth together. He stood opposite Cal, not moving towards or away. Staring, waiting and daring Cal to walk out of the pub.

Cal stared back, unmoving, just like Ethan.

Eventually, Ethan spoke. His voice cut through the silence between them, despite being in a noisy pub. "Go on, then."

"Ethan?" Cal asked, confused.

" _Go on_ ," he repeated forcefully. "Leave."

Cal cocked his head to the side. "I don't understand…"

He forced himself to take some deep breaths. It wouldn't help getting angry with his brother, but sometimes Cal asked for it. "I said go! I don't want to get used to you being around now, do I?"

Cal looked pained. "No… you have me all wrong."

Ethan laughed humorlessly. "Yeah. Right. Just leave me alone Cal. I don't need you."

It was obvious Cal was fuming at that, but Ethan couldn't care less. Not right now. His life was over. He couldn't care for feelings anymore. Emotions would weigh him down. He needed numbing cream for his brain.

"I'll be at home…" he said carefully, still standing there, looking like he wanted to step closer to Ethan and further from Ethan at the same time.

Ethan groaned. "Well don't expect me home tonight." _More like I won't expect you to stay at home for much longer_.

Cal was still stood there, almost swaying on his feet.

"You're like an annoying itch, you know that?"

"Fine. I'm gone."

Ethan stared at Cal's retreating back and knew he'd been harsh and his words were unnecessary. But what was the point in kindness anymore when there was nothing left but a developing neurodegenerative disease.

He sat back down and downed his beer in one. This was the solution. He may as well drink himself to death, his Huntington's forgotten and his mind numbed.

* * *

He let his mouth twist into a charming smile when he spotted a young woman sitting near him, looking right at him. He didn't catch what she ordered, but he was just in time to offer to buy her the drink.

She accepted and Ethan knew he was onto something. This was what Cal did, and it helped. Well, seemed to help for a few hours. Time to help himself for once, and screw the consequences. He didn't care for consequences anymore.

"You didn't have to do that," the woman said, smiling, raising her eyebrows.

The corner of his mouth rose. "You didn't have to accept it," he replied, ordering another drink for himself just afterwards.

"Touché!"

They sat in a comfortable silence. Ethan sipped on his newly placed drink and gazed at her. God, she was beautiful.

"So," he finally said, "what would a gorgeous girl like you be doing in a… not-so-gorgeous pub like this?"

"I could ask you the same question, pretty boy." She giggled. It was like music to Ethan's ears. "I'm Bella."

"Ethan," he replied, glad she initiated the introductions.

"I once knew an Ethan," she mentioned casually. "Right little stuck-up kid, he was. So… prude."

Ethan shivered, but this was the new him. He was taking opportunities, just like Cal. He was living because his life was already over and what did anything matter anymore?

She placed her soft hand over his, and he couldn't help but admire the way she licked her lips. "I hope you aren't the same."

Ethan laid his other hand over hers. "Trust me. I couldn't be further from that."

* * *

They kissed passionately, almost desperately, as they made their way into Bella's room. He could feel the passion in their kiss.

Ethan couldn't remember how he'd got there, heck – he didn't ever remember leaving the pub, but he did know that this, _this_ was living. This was what Cal enjoyed and there was no doubting that Ethan could enjoy this too.

So why did it feel so wrong?

His mind didn't get the chance to answer. His morals were forgotten. He felt her soft hands feel around his jacket, and he slipped out of it. It dropped on the floor. In turn, he slid her cardigan off her shoulders, leaving her in a skin-tight top. He admired her as they broke from their kiss.

Then he stopped. He looked away. This wasn't right.

She pulled away, her arms dropping from his shoulders, evidently sensing his hesitation.

"It's okay if you don't want to," she allowed, sounding disappointed. "It's just…" she trailed a finger down his chest, making shivers travel down his spine "…I happen to like you."

"Uhm... I do... I mean, I..."

He initiated the next kiss.

She leant her weight into him and he fell back onto the soft duvet cover. Her hands started to undo his belt just as they broke apart from their kiss, but he wasn't focused on that.

All he wanted to do was _live_ , so why did living feel so wrong?

* * *

Ethan slammed the door, not feeling the slightest bit drunk or elated. All he felt was anger. Overwhelming anger that seeped into every nerve cell and lit them on fire. This wasn't fair. He had Huntington's. It had started. It was only going to get worse and he could do _nothing_ to stop it. This was it. The end of his life.

He screamed. Then he swore. Then he screamed again, driving his fist into the wall - uncaring of the pain that radiated throughout his hand and arm. He kicked the wall, not fully aware of the pain he should have been feeling. It wouldn't matter anyway. He was going to have to get used to feeling pain. It would be his life until he died.

He shut his eyes tightly, feeling an all-too-familiar wetness on his cheeks. He imagined what it would be like to die, but snapped open his eyes and threw a chair to the hard floor when he realised that soon he would be facing his biggest fear that he tried too hard to fight against every day with his patients.

Death.

He felt strong and familiar arms grab him from behind and hold him tightly. Ethan surprised himself by leaning into them.

"Shh, Ethan. It's okay. It's going to be okay. You're okay, you're alright. I'm going to help you. I won't leave you, I'll never leave you," his big brother promised as Ethan sobbed. "I swear I'll never leave you. We're going to get through this together. It's okay. Shh, it's okay."

Ethan turned with difficulty and punched against Cal's chest, wanting to hit something but not directly wanting to hit the only thing he could hold onto. Cal was still muttering to him, stroking his hair and his back, trying and failing to calm him down.

"I don't want this!" he screamed. "I don't want it!"

"Shh, I know. It's okay, Ethan. I know, but I'm here and we'll do this together," Cal comforted.

"I don't want to die, Cal! Take it away! Please! Take it off me!"

He could feel Cal's hard breathing as Ethan collapsed into him, feeling his energy drain rapidly. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I can't and you know I can't. But you'll have years left, and... and we can do whatever you want, and we'll do it together."

Cal slowly lowered him to the ground, and while Ethan was aware it was a hard floor, he couldn't feel it. All he could feel was pain and uncertainty and feelings eating him up inside.

"I didn't mean it," Ethan whispered as he started to breathe deeply, allowing himself to be comforted by his big brother.

"Mean what, Eth?" Cal asked, equally as quiet.

Ethan closed his eyes and let his limbs relax. "Everything I said earlier. I didn't mean it..."

Cal brought him closer, positioning himself and Ethan more comfortably. "Don't worry, it's forgotten. I know you, Ethan. And I know you didn't mean it."

"Please don't leave," he begged desperately, his eyes snapping open. "Please, Cal. I can't be alone, I don't want to be alone, I-"

"I won't," he interrupted. "I promise. You're my little brother, Ethan - and you know that I love you. And loving you means sticking with you through the hard times and the good times. That's what being a brother is."

"But you didn't choose to be my brother..." he spoke uncertainly, gazing up at Cal with wide eyes.

"No, but I am choosing to be here. I never had to stay. I can leave at any moment. But I haven't and I won't."

Ethan snuggled his head into Cal's chest, closing his eyes again. "I don't want to be you. At least not the 'you' that you used to be."

He heard Cal laugh hollowly. "What are you talking about?"

"I nearly slept with a girl after getting drunk," he replied simply.

Now Cal's laugh sounded more genuine. "What do you mean 'nearly'?"

"I couldn't go through with it. It was wrong."

He guessed, by Cal's tone of voice, that he was smiling. "Never change, Ethan. I love you just the way you are."

Ethan squeezed his eyes so tightly shut that he could see colours in the darkness. "But I will change," he whispered.

"No, no, no. Don't think like that," he whispered, determined. "You'll always be my little brother and you won't change. I'll still love you and be there for you, Ethan. You just have to trust me."

He relaxed. "Of course I do."

This. This was living. Not getting drunk or sleeping with girls in the same way he tried to achieve today (which went against most of his morals).

He was with his brother, calm and comforted. He trusted him and he loved him, in the same way Cal did with Ethan.

He was safe, and he could almost be happy.

* * *

 _A/N I really hope this isn't too OOC. It was meant to be about such desperation and hopelessness around living that Ethan needed to feel like he was living – no matter what he did. And I apologise for how angst-heavy this is. I started writing this to relieve writer's block and it just turned into a mess of hurting Ethan. Ah, well. At least Cal's there to comfort him! Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!_


End file.
